Beautiful Dreamer
by planet p
Summary: AU; sequel to Tamba. Everyone has a story.
1. Chapter 1

**Beautiful Dreamer**

by planet p

xxx

**Disclaimer**

I don't own 'the Pretender' or its characters. Neither do I own the song 'That was my heart' (sung by Ella F).

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

Everyone has a story.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

The night was cold. Annie was sure she would have been able to see stars were it not for the interminable haze born of industry and factories pumping smoke down by the river. She smiled, a shiver sliding up her spine as a wisp of bitter night air whisked about her ankles and nipped at the backs of her bare legs.

The automatic doors slid shut with a dull thud, the glass front of the shop shuddering. Annie recalled the ripple of an acorn breaking the surface of a great dark lake with a tiny plop. When she was little she used to think that a dragon lived in that lake. Ageless and so very hungry, hungry for blood.

xxx

_Thirteen-year-old Annie sat huddled in her bed, covers drawn up about her chest, trembling. Must not fall asleep, she thought to herself, must not fall asleep. Over and over and over…_

_The night was dark and treacherous. So very dark. Yet strange dusky light flickered beyond the lace and icy glass._

_It was the monster. The dragon was waking up._

xxx

_Annie knew she could not fall asleep. If she did the monster would come for her in the night. Her mummy would come to her in the morning and find her bed empty. She would scream and run out into the lounge, her eyes mad with worry._

_The police would come later, with their shiny white cars. But they would find nothing. The monster will have taken the girl to its watery palace far beneath the unholy mud. It would keep her there for a long long time. She would not age, but the monster would feed off her blood. She would be weak. She would never wake._

_Until one day the monster was strong enough to assume human form and take the girl as her slave. The girl would visit her parents, but they would be nothing more than skeletons buried beneath stone of grey. The wind and storm would be their only visitors, the passing of time their only companions. The girl would not come again_

_Annie sniffed inaudibly, praying silently under her breath. Over and over and over…_

xxx

_The dragon had once been a girl, a witch. The witch had worked in an orphanage where she had grown up. She had wanted to leave, but the wicked old woman said 'no'._

_One day drought and famine struck upon the land. There was no food and the little there was made people ill. The girl was scared. She didn't want to die. She was hungry too._

_So the girl hatched a plan. At first it was different. She was helping them. She took the sick ones and cut their throats the way she was taught to kill chooks. They didn't hurt anymore._

_Then she sold their meat and people gave her good money._

_The drought came and went, but the girl – who had long since become the witch – did not stop the killings. She took the children in the night, promised them candy and pretty things. She could not stop. She had seen the priest's pretty daughter Sunday last. She went away to learn and know things, so nobody saw her much. Boys and their mothers thought her an angel to mortals. She had pretty jewels stuck all over her, shiny gold things, and smelly powders for her skin._

_The witch cursed the holy mother every time she saw that rascal. She wanted those pretty things for herself. She wanted a boy to take her away and make her his wife. But instead she was ugly and had to slave and work until she died one day and was buried in a pit with countless others who had no name._

_That winter the rascal angel went missing and none found her. A strange sickness seized upon the orphanage and children died in numbers. The priest sung of curses and fallen angels. The witch thought he sung too much. But he never wondered why the oak grew so well when it was just a youngling when the crops had been dying. Young couples picnicked under the shade of the oak. They all went mad. Whispers, they said, whispers they hearsed._

xxx

_William came in later, when the faint flickering of light had disappeared from beneath the door, the mumblings of the television now silent._

_Annie pretended to be asleep but he knew better. He sat down beside his baby girl and gave her that look she knew she would do anything for. So she told him about the lights and the dragon and the witch._

_She didn't want to cry, but she was scared._

xxx

"_Boats, honey pie, they're boats."_

_Annie shook her head, tears burning deep ruts in her frozen cheeks. "It's the dragon," she mumbled under her voice, her brown eyes locked fearfully with the window, searching the shadowy dark for any sign of an approaching monster. "The dragon… dragon… dragon…"_

"_Annie!" William reprimanded indignantly. Annie's head snapped around and her overlarge eyes fell on her father trying to be angry with his baby girl for being scared of the dark._

_Annie rocked silently back and forth, unseeing. It was coming. She was angry. Why was her daddy smiling? Why didn't he believe her? She wanted him to go so the dragon could come and take her and then he wouldn't be smiling anymore but she wouldn't care._

"_Annie, why are you so silly?" William asked as he reached for his daughter._

_Annie hissed and attempted to break free of his hold. She didn't want him hugging her! He didn't believe her. He thought she was a bad girl because she made lies up. Bad girls didn't deserve hugs!_

_But she was still little and not very strong, so she let her daddy hug her. It made her feel a little bit better._

_William stroked his daughter's hair before pulling the blankets back up around her and standing._

"_Now off to bed with you, you silly thing. Your mother will be mighty cross in the morning if she hears you haven't been sleeping."_

_Annie shook her head, frantic. She grabbed for her daddy's arm. "Stay? Please stay! I don't want the dragon to take me away. I don't want you to be dead and mummy too."_

_William frowned and glanced towards the darkened window a moment. Annie stared with wide pleading eyes. William sighed and turned back to his little girl. "Daddy doesn't feel so well. He thinks maybe a walk will make him feel better."_

_Annie shook her head vehemently._

"_Daddy doesn't want to go outside alone but. He doesn't like the dark. He wonders if he could have some company?"_

_Annie's eyes lit up a split second before her face fell. "But it's dark!" the little girl whined. "And cold!"_

_William smiled. "Well then, Annie will just have to bring her coat, won't she?"_

_Annie pushed her blankets off her legs and got out of bed, shivering as her bare feet touched cold floorboards. "What about mummy?"_

"_Mummy's pretending to be asleep so she doesn't have to talk to daddy."_

_Annie frowned suddenly. William caught sight of the little girl's face and laughed._

"_Oh no, silly, daddy's making up stories. Mummy's got sore ankles so she doesn't want to go for a walk."_

"_Did mummy say I was allowed to go?" Annie questioned._

_William smiled again. "Tell you what, honey. If we be real quiet then mummy won't hear us. What do you say? You up for it?"_

_Annie blinked, thinking. "Okay, daddy."_

_William ruffled his daughter's brunette hair and pulled her into a hug. "Let's go see the fishing boats, huh?"_

_Annie looked up at her father and nodded._

"_They might even have hot chocolate if we ask real nice."_

_The little girl smiled. She liked hot chocolate._

xxx

Annie would be turning twenty in the Fall. She had moved away from Blue Cove two years ago to study. She was going to be a nurse.

She worked night-times at the local supermarket to pay the rent. It wasn't much but it helped. Besides, she never really slept well at night anymore. It was a reprieve from thinking about the dark nameless things that hunted her in the shadows of her dreams.

xxx

"Good evening, ma'am. How are you this evening?"

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

The young woman named Annie watched as small children in stuffy parkers and scruffy mittens ran about their parent's feet, some leaning across the metal barrier to get a better look at the skaters, in awe of their skill and so very jealous.

Pop music blared dully in the background. Annie finished tying her laces and set off towards the ice rink, stopping to help a little boy back to his feet when he skidded on the ice and fell.

A small smile played across her peach-coloured lips as she let the dance take her, leaving all her cares far behind, lost in the distant blur of colour and giggling teens.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

Bubbles burst forth, climbing steadily higher along the wall of the ceramic jug. Annie leant across the bench and switched the kettle off at the power-point. The bubbles pushed themselves free and dashed themselves across the steaming hot surface. The surface stilled and no new bubbles came.

Annie reached up and opened the cupboard. Her hand grasped for the instant coffee before she changed her mind and settled on chamomile tea instead. It was better for her health, besides.

Settling back into the couch, mug clutched in her hands, she smiled and sung softly to the music drifting from the cassette player across the tiny room.

"… you promised you'd never deceive. But right from the start, you made-believe. You took my heart, and then you left me to cry all alone. You have no heart. Keep mine cos you need a heart for your own…"

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

Annie placed a hand delicately in the small of her back, turning to appraise her figure in the bathroom mirror. A small smile tugged at her pretty lips.

Straightening the skirt of her little blue and white uniform, she brushed her dark hair back off her pale face and secured a pretty green clip to the left of the parting in her hair.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

The racket of the bus died down and the bus rattled away around the corner, its tail-lights – like red eyes – finally disappearing.

The night was restless, wary and bitter, a maze of scampering shadows and harried whispers in the dark. Annie pulled her yellow knit cardigan closer about her chest, half-listening to the dull click-clack her chunky-heeled sandals made on the cold concrete as she hurried towards the supermarket car park.

xxx

She kept her eyes on the path ahead as she passed the darkened alley through which she supposed a block of flats lay.

Her breath deepened as she silently reprimanded herself for her childish fear of the dark, nonetheless her pleasant smile remained. Deep down, she knew this irrational fear was just that, irrational. It made her smile for a time. How silly she could be.

Her pace quickened when she spotted the blinking neon lights up ahead, thinking oddly that she missed the eerie artificial light and cold linoleum tiles.

xxx

A hand reached around her neck from her back, brushing her shoulder slightly as it did, causing an odd tingling sensation in the young woman's stomach.

The hand closed over her mouth before she could turn to fight back. "Shhh. Don't make a sound," the voice of a young man cooed. A muffled scream escaped her throat.

Annie's eyes widened impossibly, fear seizing her insides. She couldn't think. Why… why her? What had she ever done? Why… what was happening? She didn't know any more. In attempt to regain some control, she stopped kicking her legs and brang her heel down hard on the man's shoe.

"Shit!" the man swore loudly, grabbing a handful of the aggressor's hair and yanking her head back painfully.

Annie yowled and found that her voice came out clear and unmuffled. At that moment cold hard metal pressed sharp against the delicate skin of her neck.

"What you do that for?" the man hissed angrily.

Annie didn't respond, afraid the man may slip in his anger, and oops, there goes all her blood.

The man tissed to himself, pressed against her stiff back. He took her back into the alley and chucked her in the back of a dank van. She screamed and fell into the waiting arms of another man. The man slapped her hard across the face. Her stomach reeled horribly but she forced herself to remain focused, desperately searching for any sign or confirmation of action upon the man's face.

Her desperate pleas remained unanswered. It was too dark to make out any defining features. Her vision was a blur of shadow and uncertainty.

Then her wrists were bound behind her back with cable tie and her mouth was taped with duct tape. The two men left her amongst the rubble and broken things in the back of the van. The door scaped horribly as it was slid forcefully shut, taking with it the last beam of light, and casting Annie's world into darkness.

The two men got into the front, slamming the front doors with little care as to the sound they made. Nobody lived down this alley anyhow. It was all just factory.

Annie's stomach churned at the smell of exhaust fumes and sump oil. She fought desperately not to be sick, knowing she would likely choke on it if she was. Annie cried then but the men never heard over the low rumble of the motor.

**xxx**

**PS**

This is gonna be so wrong. My middle name is scatterbrain so please don't scream at me.

Anyway, this is set about 1975 (when Annie is 20 and studying to be a nurse). Annie's memory (the italics) is set in a holiday house by a lake. I know Annie is 13 in the memory and she acts like a little kid but she's pretty scared.

Oh, and this is a sort of sequel to 'Tamba'.

Don't know if I'm really gonna continue this story (cos I am so without a clue, and I just know this is so wrong). Eek!


	2. Chapter 2

**Beautiful Dreamer**

**Part Two**

by planet p

xxx

**Disclaimer**

I don't own 'the Pretender'; nor do I own the song 'That was my heart'.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

Lyle dropped his keys onto the counter and headed for the bottle in the middle of the coffee table. He was never going to get to sleep tonight without it.

xxx

_Dark. Cold. The teen stirred restlessly upon the concrete floor. Locked in. Again. He tossed and turned as though caught in some strange nightmare. A sudden splitting scream cut the bitter night air, the sound reverberating jarringly off the concrete walls._

_Bobby started at the sound and awoke. The noise hurt his head terribly and he wished whoever it was would just shut up._

_And then the noise was gone, leaving behind it a shrill silence that hurt almost as much. It was only then that Bobby realised – with a confused frown – that his heart was racing far too fast._

_He had been the one who had screamed._

xxx

Lyle awoke with a start and realised that he must have fallen asleep. He leant across and switched the muted television off. The room fell into a depressing darkness. Lyle stared up at the ceiling and watched as shadows chased one another, the light of the full moon casting the room in an artificial twilight.

He took a good swig of vodka and tried, once more, to sleep.

xxx

He woke a few hours later, plus the addition of a splitting headache.

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Parker sat in her office, idly reading some report or other.

Lyle stopped at the door and knocked once on the doorframe, his headache having not let up despite half-a-dozen pills with God-knows-what in them. _Nothing good, that's for sure._

Parker looked up over the top of her report, closing her eyes and opening them again once they were rested on the door. Her eyes darkened to a scowl, recognition and dislike dark in her navy blues. "Out."

It was not angry or upset – certainly not scared – it was simply, simply that. "Sis?"

Parker raised her eye brows, her eyes widening, her mouth kept determinately shut. She leant her head slightly towards her shoulder. "Don't make me repeat myself."

Lyle sighed. _No use really._ "No." He turned and walked away, badly needing a coffee anyhow.

xxx

"That was my heart, the one so spellbound the first time we met. That was my heart, you broke in two. That was my heart, the one so easy for you to get. It was so new, this thrill I felt for you. That was my heart…"

**xxx**

**PS**

This is set in about 1998. Lyle had a bad day at work.

The next chapter will probably be set in the late 70s again.

Sorry this is so short but I still don't know if I will finish this story. I know what I want to write, I just don't seem to be able to write it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Beautiful Dreamer**

**Part Three**

by planet p

xxx

**Disclaimer**

I don't own 'the Pretender'.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

Bobby stared down at his desk with boredom in his starry grey eyes. The fifteen-year-old turned away from his exercise book and gazed out the window in mild interest. _Never gonna happen_, he reminded himself, rolling his eyes. "Typical."

He turned back to his desk, but instead of do his homework, he got out the comic he had nicked from the store a while back and leant back in his chair casually, flicking to a page he had previously ear-marked. He didn't care if the teacher gave him more detention. More time he didn't have to spend at home with that miserable excuse for a father. He snorted. _Father? What a stupid word!_

After a moment, he huffed, and rolled his eyes once more. _Over-rated, that's for sure!_ He chuckled to himself. _Freedom? Who needs it?_ But deep down inside he knew that he did.

He rolled his comic up and stuck it in the back of his jeans. _Time to use that brilliant head of yours, Bobby Bee! Ah-hah! Don't flatter yourself! Ukk! Unnatural. Now you're talking to yourself. Well… kinda. Then stop it! Good I will!_

He flicked to page 276 and began to read the allocated text with which he was to answer some questions at the end of the chapter. He couldn't really leave his mum to fix the dinner on her own. She'd never manage. And then she'd get hit again. And Bobby knew she was older than him. And female. Besides, he owed her. She was his mother after all.

He shook his head and sighed. The things he did for the love of a woman. A moment later, he burst into all out laughter. _Oh, Bobby, don't be a scatterbrain! Daddy gets home at five. It's four now. There's dishes to be done, sweeping, the washing to be hung up, and then there's the whole business with dinner. You're gonna have to run, Bobby Bee. Gee, ya think?_

xxx

Bobby arrived home at four forty-five in time to get his mother out of bed and set her about the dishes as he hung up the washing and hurriedly swept the kitchen floor.

There was really no way in Hell she would get the dishes done in time with two minutes to spare, no matter the hustling and helping.

Bobby rolled his eyes and took up on the couch lazily, switching the old black-and-white telly on and flicking the channels until he found the afternoon sports. Now all he had to do was wait and hope his father was stupid enough to take the bait. _Your fault_, he scolded, _you shouldn't have been slacking. You're always getting yourself in his bad books. Why don't you just pull it together? If he hits her it'll be your fault!_

xxx

Right on cue, Mr. Bowman arrived in the hall.

Bobby turned the volume up as his father entered, so as to catch his attention, laughing stupidly for effect, and really laughing when he realised how stupid he sounded.

As he predicted, Mr. Bowman strutted up the hall and paused by the lounge room through which he could clearly see Bobby lounging inappropriately on his hard-earned furniture, his scuffed school shoes on the seat to add insult to injury.

Bobby pretended not to notice the man watching him from the door, but he was counting the seconds to convergence.

"BOY!"

Bobby frowned lightly and turned to face his addressor. He flashed his father an innocent smile, the sort that would be sure to earn him a decent biffing plus a few broken things here and there.

He tried to pretend that it didn't hurt, but who was he kidding, it always hurt – like God damn Hell!

He really couldn't be stuffed with a retort, couldn't be stuffed getting hit for his lousy mouth too, but he had to keep up the show. "Well, that bleedin' woman was givin' me the pips, wasn' she! Always do this, do bloody that!"

He counted them off in his head. One for the insult. One for each swear word, so that was two more. One for his 'attitude'. One for his 'scruffiness of pronunciation'. Oh yeah, and one more for good measure. And a few more on top of that for better measure, or was it 'therapy'?

Picking himself off the pretty red carpet, he straightened up. His father was having a breather. It hurt like Hell, but he wanted to make a good job of it. He put on a jeering smile that looked something like 'nothing special'. _Smartarse!_ "'S that the best you got, old man?"

He winced then. _Well then, that's done it, that's something else broken. Smartarse!_

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

Annie's muscles were sore for shivering so much, but she knew it was the only thing keeping her warm. To function, cells needed oxygen and carbon dioxide needed to be gotten rid of or else it would build up and become toxic, heat being a normal by-product of cellular respiration.

She felt so very tired, yet she could not sleep. Not yet. Daddy was going to come and take her away and everything would be better.

And she would wait.

xxx

The man in the other room ignored the frantic scrabbling on the wall, just knelt down and turned the volume on the television up.

"Please! Please! Let me out! If I did anything bad, I'm sorry! Please! I'm sorry! Please…!"

The man shook his head and set back to watch the rugby, intent on the game once more.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

Bobby sat huddled in his favourite corner, reminiscing on his comic book his father had taken and burnt in the laundry sink. _Too dark to read the damned thing anyway!_ He smiled to himself and immediately regretted it.

The shed was as it always was, pitch black. Bobby tried to kid himself that the dark didn't scare him, but boy did it scare him. Always had. Always would. Right now he was just being a smartarse. Give it a couple of hours and it would be a-whole-nother story.

This time he knew he deserved what he had been given. If he hadn't acted like such a dish-licker… _Ah stuff it! Stuff them all!_ What did he care? It was just him and the walls and the dark now! Oh, and the pain. _Some company_, he thought, and snorted, hating himself and his weak heart. _Strike three and Bobby Bee's out for the count!_

**xxx**

**PS**

Tisk. Tisk. That boy really needs to learn his ground rules. A few good manners wouldn't go astray neither.

I am horrid today. Creepy too.

Bad at PSs. Bad at letters in general. Oh well. And here's me thinking 'Chicago' – 'He had it coming'.

Double eek!


	4. Chapter 4

**Beautiful Dreamer**

**Part Four**

by planet p

xxx

**Disclaimer**

I don't own 'the Pretender'.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

The young man glared down at Annie with disgust. Why did he have to be the one to 'see to her'? She was revolting. None of that ladyness about her at all. Just revolting.

He remembered her from that first night; remembered how her hair had smelt of violet and shampoo, probably _from_ her shampoo; remembered how her pretty clothes had looked on her. A little too tight and shoddily taken-up as though they had once been too long.

She was fairly chubby he bargained. She would soon lose that. The shortness he could do little about. She would just have to stay a Lilliput.

Her pretty uniform was long since covered with muck, wrinkled and frayed.

He sighed and chucked the peanut butter sandwich at her, turning at the door once more to frown in disgust, before he locked the door. It was a pity really. She never even woke.

xxx

"Didn't I tell you? Didn't I bloody well tell you?" his friend roared over the blaring television.

The young woman was scratching at the walls again, sobbing uselessly and screaming in her little voice in between.

The young man turned the telly up until it could be turned up no more.

xxx

The friend smacked his hand down on the coffee table with a force that nearly broke the thing in two. "That one needs to be taught some house rules! What say you and me have us some fun? Pretty little peek-a-boo in there won't mind. It's what she was made for, idn' it?"

The young man knew his friend was drunk but he offered no countenance.

His friend smacked him on the back so that he had to grab the coffee table to stop from toppling forward and doing his head in on the table top. "Ah, come on, daddy deawest ain't never gonna know, is 'e? Not if she ain't tellin'! Nah! She won't tell. I make sure of that. You know, I always do. Yeah?"

The young man sighed and stood, helping his friend to his feet. "Yeah. Why not? She looks the type. Bimbo. Too ugly to get a guy on her own besides. We just doin' her a favour, ain't we?"

The friend laughed raucously. "We sure is!"

xxx

Annie sobbed uselessly as the men took turns with her body as though it were simply a plaything, tears streaming helplessly down her pale cheeks unchecked.

She barely made a sound, just a horrible gargling from the back of her throat that the man didn't much care for. The man made a note to bring some music next time.

She sounded pathetic and pathetic pissed him off. It was what he wanted to hear, but still, it pissed him off.

Useless, ugly female thing. Weak, pathetic, revolting.

She never even cried as he hit her. She had no more tears left. They were all gone now.

xxx

She was given plain bread the next time.

She was never given water. She drunk too much water when she was scrubbed as it was. Her silly little girly eyes wide and scared. She flinched and even yowled and it made his inside squirm with pleasure to see it.

He wasn't so sure about the young one. He _would_ learn, in time. It was there inside him. A flicker in his eyes as dark as night. The man was not blind to it, knew it well, saw the way he beat the dog when it barked. It was only that this thing was not a dog, still smelt human, still acted human, all domestic like. But all that would change, in time. Ah, alas, it always came back to time. So little time. So much to be done. Alas.

xxx

It amused him to hear her pray. So she was a good little Catholic girl. God fearing and all that crap. He could still remember the good ole days when his mummy and daddy would drag him off to church to confess his sins.

Mummy hated him. Daddy hated him too. But mummy always hated him more.

No son of hers was 'that way' as she so prettily put it. She made his daddy beat him, said she couldn't even bear to look upon such a disgusting thing, couldn't bear to touch his cursed flesh.

And this one was just the same. One of those God-fearing types. Thou life shallst be sheparded always by the good book, or whatever it was they chanted like conspiring elves – no – demons, devilish creatures.

His mother had always been no-good, so far as he was concerned. There was no salvation for her or her kind. They revolted him. All of them!

Yes, this one would pay. This no-good _woman_, pathetic petty excuse for her own kind.

He sighed. _Her poor poor daddy must think the world of her. Pity he couldn't see her for what she was._ But Brad knew. Oh, how he knew.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

Bobby followed the ball with his eyes. _Got to keep up the good show_, he reminded himself. Soccer was well enough, just a lot of running about and shouting at other people.

He hurt from cold even though he wasn't cold now, hurt when he breathed, but he knew he couldn't let it show. What and let his father win? _Don't be a bad sport now, Bobby Bee. You just got to learn the ways of things, 's all. And the way of things is that you is not worth nothing until you earn it. So start earning it!_

xxx

He rolled his dull cloudy eyes. Basketball next. He huffed. At least in soccer he could slack and watch the girls play volleyball. No such luck in basketball. A 'team' sport, they all said. Chimed one after the other till they made him want to be sick.

xxx

He hadn't been able to concentrate on his Maths that morning. Like anyone did? The teacher had chosen that moment to make an example of someone, however, and that someone had turned out to be Bobby Bowman. _Stupid bleeding Bobby!_

He had been sent to the headmaster's office for that. "Well, I don't know, sir, why don't you ask that pretty little secretary you're cheating on the missus with. I'm sure she'd be thrilled. Tutoring, isn't that what you call it?"

Bobby shook his head. Why did he always have to go being such a loud-mouthed dish-licker?

xxx

Kenny shouted something to him, waving his arms about like a mad traffic conductor. Bobby frowned, about to ask if he didn't add the wrong sort of mushrooms to his pasta last night. Then the colours went all funny and he was blinking, only seeing black.

He heard a dull thud and God did he hurt, but the rest was just a blur, a distant buzzing.

Until he woke up in the sick-bay and knew he was dead for sure.

At least he would be, when he got home that night.

**xxx**

**PS**

Not trying to offend anyone. Just trying to explain the characters' motivations.

But then there's war. Sorry, but I'm not a big fan of it. I should really stop blabbing. Right about now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Beautiful Dreamer**

**Part Five**

by planet p

xxx

**Disclaimer**

I don't own 'the Pretender'.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

So it was the shed again. Oh how he loved that shed! His favourite place in the whole wide world. He was willing to bet on that. _Stupid dish-licker! Why don't you just get a brain?_

Bobby sighed. _A transplant more like. Oh cut it out! It's pathetic! No wonder people say you give them the creeps. You're a regular creep._

He sighed once more, with difficulty. At least it hurt. He was still alive. But perhaps that wasn't such a good thing after all? Perhaps he would much rather be dead? _Don't you be thinking like that now, Bobby Bee. It's plain stupid and you know it!_

Another sigh. And a chuckle. Blood all over the floor. And pain. Oh, the pain. _Nice touch to the décor, Bobby Bee! Poor liddle thing's losing his mind, slowly but surely._

A small smile came across his face as he realised the blood was warm and smeared some on his cheek.

_Cut it out, Bobby! It ain't funny no more._

But he couldn't stop laughing, not even if he wanted. It finally stopped when he passed out.

xxx

The school counsellor said that it would pass, that all adolescents went through phases like this. But what phase that was exactly, Bobby was unsure. He rather thought that head-doctor-wannabe talked a load of old blah. Liked the sound of her own voice like it was incurable too.

Bobby nodded like a good little boy and promised to try good and proper to be social, amicable and all that hullabaloo.

He wondered if they was gonna put him on pills and thought that he might like that. He could just imagine his father's face when they told him. Poor liddle Bobby Bee would be dead and floating in the river by the hour.

They asked all sorts of slimy questions. Like if he was okay at home? If anything was the matter? If his mummy and daddy fed him proper? If he went to church on Sunday? If he was on drugs?

He simply laughed good-naturedly and dismissed them all. But inside he was screaming that they had no right to talk about what they didn't know.

No matter what he did, he was always wrong. Poor liddle Bobby Bee was not destined for better things.

And he wondered what the Hell kind of sick, mucked-up, crazy thing he had done in his last life to deserve this.

xxx

He never slept anymore, would wake up every few minutes. He couldn't remember it ever being this bad before, but perhaps he just had a faulty memory, like a botched electrical circuit or something.

He passed Kenny notes in class instead of doing his Biology. Kenny wondered why he never snuck out nights anymore. Bobby lied, said his mama would worry if he got a cold or something and then the show would be up.

He took to skipping classes. He was a dead, anyhow, what were a few more bruises, a few more breaks. It was all just damage.

Nothing a little scotch wouldn't fix, or if he was doing badly, metho. Kenny said he should lay off, something about it being bad for his health. Bobby laughed in his face, anything to ignore the voices in his head.

If talking to oneself was the first sign of madness, Bobby figured listening to oneself must have been a sure sign of madness.

He stopped caring about the endless lies. Mr. Bowman said he got what was coming to him. He learnt to care again.

xxx

In his dreams there was this girl and she was the prettiest little thing he had ever seen – not that he had actually ever seen her. It was ever so dark in that dungeon of hers. But he could tell she must have been pretty. She sure felt pretty to him.

But less and less so each day. And he was a little sad.

At first he simply dreamt of her. He would wake in the night as scared as Hell and he would know it was not Bobby who was scared, but the Girl.

xxx

He thought about the Girl in Biology. Wondered if her eyes were blue or brown or green? Wondered why she was locked inside a dungeon anyhow? Perhaps she didn't like the light? He had no answers; only questions.

xxx

Black. Dark. Ebony. It was all he could see. He imagined he could taste it too, but that was just the taste of blood and puke.

Black. Dark. Ebony. It was all he could feel. But then he could feel her too. Her pain kept him from sleeping so often. But it was more than that, more than feeling; neurons, sensory nerves and electrical impulses.

xxx

But the Girl was a prisoner too. She hurt because she was beaten. She had forgotten the feel of sunlight, the taste of proper good air (if that sort of thing indeed existed). She had forgotten that too.

She felt so very hungry that her stomach hurt with it, but whenever she ate, she would puke again.

So she stopped eating.

And he wanted to help her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Beautiful Dreamer**

**Part Six**

by planet p

xxx

**Disclaimer**

I don't own 'the Pretender'. I don't own any of the songs: 'Who's taking you home tonight?', 'Wish me luck', 'Be like the kettle and sing', 'I'll be with you in apple blossom time'; 'That was my heart'.

'That was my heart' is sung by Ella Fitzgerald. The rest is all by Vera Lynn.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

Bobby wasn't afraid of the dark anymore. He didn't have to be. She was always with him. Waiting, waiting for him to join her again.

He almost didn't mind the beatings, just to be with her.

He knew this was mad, but he was past the point of caring.

He heard her pray each night. She prayed for her daddy, but her daddy never came.

Bobby prayed too. He knew he hadn't been baptised or nothing, hadn't never been to church before either, but he prayed for her, prayed like he wanted to believe. Sometimes he thought that he did want to believe.

xxx

She lay pressed into the hard floor, cold as the concrete beneath her.

He thought that she was asleep, but he should have known. She never slept. She was hardly ever awake. "Just tell me."

"I can't."

He was surprized when she answered him back. He would have said shocked, but then, he was mad. "Tell me where you are."

They spoke as though they had always done so. "I can't."

"I promise I'll come an' get you. An' I won't never let no one hurt you again."

He could tell she wanted to believe, but she just didn't have it in her anymore. "I'm sorry." And she was.

Bobby shook his head as though he could imagine her there before him. He stopped as soon as the pain kicked in. Whose pain, he was no longer sure; pain, all the same. "No, don't be sorry. Please don't go. I don't want to be alone. Why won't you let me help you?"

"Please, no more questions. I just want to be left alone. I'm tired, so very tired."

It was there in her voice. "No! You can't sleep now! Please don't leave. Just tell me where you are. I promise I won't ask no more questions. Just as long as you tell me." He knew she wouldn't tell. She passed out, and he was left alone again.

xxx

He knew he was crazy when he chucked his plate to the kitchen floor. He laughed when the ceramic smashed and food flew everywhere, splatting against his legs.

His mother looked as though she had simultaneously found life and then death again, all in one moment. Bobby only laughed harder.

He was happy when his father beat him, he was going to meet her again. His happiness didn't last long. He wanted for his promises not to be just lies. He wanted to believe in miracles.

xxx

"No! Don't hurt her! She never done no thing to you! I'm gonna kill you if you hurt her! Please! No! You're hurting her. Stop. Please stop…"

But the men never stopped, never even heard Bobby screaming like some mad demented thing straight out of Hell.

xxx

And he was left to comfort an inconsolable shell of the girl he had once known. She never prayed anymore.

"It's okay. Shhh… It's okay now. They gone now. They not gonna come back. You sleep now. Shhh… I'll make sure they don't come back. You just get some rest. No. Don't talk. Sleeeep. Shhh…"

Books he had read talked of catalepsy, but Bobby knew the Girl did not sleep. Nights he lay on his cold floor and imagined her there beside him, imagined her could hear her breathing.

xxx

"What about I sing you a song? What's your favourite?"

There was no answer. She was listening, that was all.

"It's no trouble. How about I guess? Hmmm… Let me see_. Who's taking you home tonight, after the dance is through? Who's going to hold you tight and whisper, 'I love you, I do'? Who's the lucky girl that's going your way to kiss you goodnight at your doorway? Who's taking you home tonight? Darling, it's plain to see, I'm pleading, 'please let it be me'._"

Still no response. Although she didn't make a sound he knew she was smiling, and he knew this was what they called 'hope'.

He tried again, excited now. "_Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye. Cheerio, here I go, on my way. Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye, with a cheer, not a tear; make it gay. Give me a smile I can keep all the while in my heart while I'm away. Till me meet once again, you and I, wish me luck as you wave…_"

She was smiling properly now.

He tried not to think how it hurt. "Uh-ah? No? What about- Uh-hah! I've got it now! _When all the skies are grey and it's a rainy day think of the birdies in spring. When you're up to your neck in hot water, be like the kettle and sing. Tell that umbrella man-_"

Her laughter cut him short, but he wasn't giving up.

"_I'll be with you in apple blossom time. I'll be with you to change your name to mine. One day in May, your comments say, happy the bride that the sun shines on today. What a wonderful wedding there will be. What a wonderful day for you and me. Church bells will chime; you will be mine, in apple blossom time._"

She caught her breath and wanted to cry because she knew he meant it this time. Casting all foolish notions aside, she laughed softly, and decided to end the game before one of them got hurt. "_That was my heart, the one so spellbound the first time we met. That was my heart, you broke in two. That was my heart, the one so easy for you to get. It was so new, this thrill I felt for you. That was my heart, the one you promised you'd never deceive…_"

Then he had to go.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

Bobby shared inconsequential chatter with Kenny when he didn't have class. Kenny thought that he had finally broke through.

Bobby ran straight home that day. Kenny didn't even bother to call out.

xxx

He finished all his chores and did his homework too. He was allowed to sleep in his own bed again that night.

He snuck out the window and crept off to the shed where he knew she'd be waiting for him.

xxx

He sat patiently for the longest time. It seemed to take forever for darkness to fall that night. He felt as though he was going mad all over again.

He smiled almost too much. He should have known it couldn't last. He should have seen it coming.

He never even screamed when he realised she was gone. And would not be coming back.

xxx

Mr. Bowman never said a word when he found him there, just sitting against the wall, staring into space.

Mrs. Bowman packed him lunch and sent him on his way, and he never even thought to disobey.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

The man was angry when the girl died. The audacity astounded him. Then he simply shrugged and ordered the younger man to dig a hole out back. They left her there beneath all of that dirt. No prayers were said, no farewells for her journey into the afterlife.

They did not even miss her. The young man washed his hands and dried them on a towel. Later he got some beers from the fridge and the two men sat down to watch the rugby.


	7. Chapter 7

**Beautiful Dreamer**

**Part Seven**

by planet p

xxx

**Disclaimer**

I don't own 'the Pretender'.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

There was a boardroom meeting. He couldn't remember what it had been about. He didn't care, besides.

He figured it had had to have something to do with that Jarod, the labrat.

His care had worn out.

Parker stopped him at the door, accusation in her eyes.

He swept out without a single word. He didn't stop to note Parker's shock and anger.

xxx

The television bored him. It was all so stupid, so very pointless. He smashed it. It didn't matter. He could get a new one.

The fridge turned his stomach. He decided on vodka instead.

He sat in the window and stared out at the world beyond, and felt so distant from it, so disconnected, that he thought that it may never matter again.

He took a swig to make him feel better. And another because he was cold.

The other third of the bottle was supposed to make him forget. It didn't.

He decided to be damned and drink the whole bleeding thing and be done with it.

He didn't get three-quarters of the way before the bottle slipped from his hands and smashed on the lino.

He stared at the shattered glass and laughed.

Then he thought of Annie and he cried.

xxx

He thought of all the times she had screamed at him.

"Tamba! Get away from the road!"

"Bloody stay with me!"

"There! Go in front of me so I can see you!"

xxx

And all the times she had screamed for him.

"Tam!"

"NOOOOOO!"

"Tammy?"

"No! NO!"

"NO! NOOOOO!"

"NOOOO! Please! Daddy! Don't make him go! DADDY!"

"TAMMY! TAMMY!"

xxx

Somehow it all started to blur in his mind.

"I promise I'll come an' get you. An' I won't never let no one hurt you again."

"No! Don't hurt her! She never done no thing to you! I'm gonna kill you if you hurt her! Please! No! You're hurting her. Stop. Please stop…"

"That was my heart, the one so spellbound the first time we met. That was my heart, you broke in two. That was my heart, the one so easy for you to get. It was so new, this thrill I felt for you. That was my heart…"

xxx

And he cried for a love lost and a love never realised.

The End.


End file.
